


Life Support

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger Management, Depressed Hank Anderson, Depression, Fowler POV, Grief/Mourning, Hank and Fowler Friendship, Hannor, Happy Ending, M/M, Male Friendship, Minor Hank Anderson/Connor, Recovery, Supportive Jeffrey Fowler, Sweet, hankcon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 21:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17609624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: In Hank Anderson's darkest hour, newly minted Captain Jeffrey Fowler does the best he can to keep his best friend alive in the face of a loss so grievous he can't even begin to imagine it. He watches over Hank, hoping someday Hank will find a way to live again instead of just existing in the wake of Cole's death.That day has finally come with the deviant investigation and the arrival of an android named Connor. As Hank and Connor's relationship develops and Hank starts to deal with his depression and alcoholism, Fowler can finally step back and become Hank's friend again instead of keeping him on life support.





	Life Support

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to @beartwinkhell on twitter for the inspiration for this fic!
> 
> I really wanted to write something celebrating Hank and Fowler's friendship. It's very briefly touched on in the game but we don't see nearly enough of it. We see a lot of angry! Fowler but I feel like he deserves so much better than that two-bit stereotype. He's a police Captain who's probably under a lot of stress, who has his own family life and is trying to keep his best friend from self-destructing in the wake of losing his son. I wanted to write about men who struggle with their emotions but ultimately embrace and control them; I hope I've succeeded because I feel pretty pleased with this fic.
> 
> Obviously this touches on Hank/Connor too, but it's from Fowler's perspective so we don't see their private life. There are definitely some sweet HankCon moments, though.

**October 2035**

Captain Jeffrey Fowler sat behind his desk and looked though the glass pane down onto the bullpen below. Hank's desk was covered in flowers and sympathy cards that he wouldn't be coming in to pick up any time soon. The entire precinct had shown up for his son's funeral. Hank had been drunk the whole time, his arm still in a sling from the crash, but who could blame him for wanting to forget the greatest nightmare any human could experience?

Fowler had driven him home afterwards, wishing he could do something to tear the misery from his friend's heart, but there was no trick for this situation, no shortcut around grief and loss. He'd just become Captain himself, and it hurt to be at the peak of his career, enjoying one of the best years of his life while Hank's entire world disintegrated. Hank's wife had left him only a few months ago, and the house Fowler pulled up to was empty, the lights off inside. There would be nobody to greet Hank and ask him how his day had been. Maybe, once things settled down, he'd advise Hank to get a dog so he wouldn't be alone in the evenings. But not yet. Right now the wounds were still raw and Hank was barely fit to take care of himself, let alone an animal that was depending sorely on him.

"You gonna be all right, Hank?" Fowler asked. Hank stared out of the window, lingering in the car, and Fowler had been a cop long enough to know reluctance when he saw it. "If you'd rather stay with us, LeAnn and the kids won't mind."

"I think—I think I should be alone right now." Hank closed his fingers around the handle and pushed the door open, stumbling onto the curb. He shut the door and dug in his jacket pocket for his keys, dropping them as he fumbled with the lock. He scooped them up with his one good hand, looking like he'd rather just slide down the door and sleep the night away in below-freezing temperatures. He finally swung the front door open and stepped inside, and Fowler pulled away, knowing he'd done all he could for Hank this night. The rest would take time and patience. 

Fowler twirled a pen between his fingers and placed it back in the hand mug on his desk as he concentrated on the present moment. Hank had given him the stupid thing as a gift. The man had awful taste in just about everything, but that was what made Hank—well, _Hank_.

He wouldn't have wished this fate on his worst enemy, let alone his best friend. Hank deserved better. He was a loyal friend, a dedicated officer, and most of all, a loving and devoted father, despite the fact his marriage hadn't worked out and he had to share custody of his son.

Fowler turned back to his computer and looked at the pending cases. He'd already assigned the majority of Hank's caseload to Ben Collins, and there was a young officer named Gavin Reed who was about ready for a promotion. When Hank came back to work, there'd be enough work to keep him busy, but not enough to stress him out.

He was going to watch Hank's back. As his friend, it was the least he could do, but he was also painfully aware it was all he could do.

The rest was up to Hank.

**December 2038**

Fowler looked through the window of his office and narrowed his eyes. The scene down in the bullpen was a massacre of poor taste, and quite frankly, fucking unprofessional. If the Commissioner walked in, he was going to wonder what exactly DPD detectives did with their time on the city's payroll. Every desk was covered in tinsel and garland, the Christmas tree was overdecorated, and Connor had wrapped himself in Christmas lights that he'd plugged into some internal power source. The precinct's newest Detective was literally glowing.

And Hank—Hank was smiling. Grinning in the middle of the mess as Connor held onto his arm, awe in his soft brown eyes as he looked at Hank like he'd given him the world. This was the android's first Christmas, and Hank had gone and gotten himself wrapped up in his partner's enthusiasm. Connor said something Fowler couldn't hear and Hank burst out laughing.

It was almost an alien sound. Fowler hadn't heard that song since the day the music died, and thought Hank had buried laughter in the ground with his son. His annoyance ebbed away, replaced by a warm glow as Hank grabbed Connor's hand and twirled him around to a Christmas song playing on someone's computer. Ben was smiling, Chris was egging them on, and even Tina and Gavin seemed amused by the whole charade, looking up from Gavin's desk to take in the ridiculous sight of a bitter old man dancing with the android he'd hated just a month ago.

Fowler's phone rang and he wandered back to his desk to pick it up. "Hello?"

"It's Special Agent Perkins," Perkins explained, his voice curt and to the point. "I've been told that the investigation into Lieutenant Anderson's unprovoked assault on me has been closed without further action."

"Damn right it has," Fowler snapped. "Just let it go already."

"He broke my nose. Lieutenant Anderson should be dismissed. I'm going to be speaking with Internal Affairs about reopening the investigation."

Fowler drew in a breath and dismissed the angry outburst he wanted to unleash on the prick, practicing the mindfulness he'd learned in therapy. "Let me ask you a question, Agent Perkins. Do you have a family?"

"Are you threatening me?" Perkins' voice raised an octave in incredulity, and Fowler hated how much of a good show this asshole liked to put on.

"Just answer the damn question!" Fowler snapped.

"Yeah. Two kids and another one on the way. So what?"

"Hank lost his son. You know that. Now you want him to lose his job, too? It's Christmas. What do I gotta do to make you drop this thing?"

Silence on the other end of the phone. Fowler looked out of the window where Connor had put a fake beard along with a Santa hat on Hank and was showing off the DPD's newest (and most reluctant) Mr. Claus to anyone who was not invested enough in their work to ignore the circus. Hank took off the Santa hat and put it on Connor's head, tucking it over his ears with such tender care that Fowler almost forgot the conversation on the phone.

"I guess an apology would suffice," Perkins said. "In writing. With a five-hundred dollar donation to a charity of my choice."

"You've got yourself a deal, Agent Perkins." Fowler put the phone back down on the receiver and went back to watching the bullpen. Hank's hands lingered on Connor's cheeks, like he never wanted to remove them, and the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place in Fowler's head.

**November 2036**

"What's goin' on with you, Jeffrey?" Hank asked, concern apparent in his glossy blue eyes as he lounged back on the couch. He was already drunk, but that was the norm these days. Hank was drunk all the time; at work, at home, even when he came to Fowler's house.

"LeAnn left me, took the kids," Fowler admitted, as he perched on the edge of the seat cushion. Hank leaned forward and poured two shots of whiskey: one for himself and one for Fowler. "She went to stay with her mother."

"Shit. You think it's serious?"

"It's my fault. I lost my temper again. I gotta go and see someone about anger management before I lose my family." Fowler buried his head in his hands, letting out a long sigh.

"You really believe in all that therapist bullshit?" Hank asked.

Fowler shrugged. "I dunno, but I have to do somethin'. I can't run around acting like a child, Hank. LeAnn and the kids deserve better."

"You think I'm a loser, huh?" Hank asked. "You don't gotta say it. It's in your eyes. You think I need to get help, to get over Cole already. This is you bein' passive-aggressive and trying to break it to me softly, isn't it?"

"Hank, it's not like that. I'm not lying to you. I really do need help. And yeah, I think you could benefit from seeing someone. I can't cover for you forever. One of these days you're going to do something stupid while you're drunk and I'm not going to be able to protect you any more."

"I should just forget about Cole, huh? He was my son, Jeffrey. My _child_. You're lucky. LeAnn will come back in a few days and you can forget all about this, but I will never hold Cole in my arms again. Imagine if one of your kids died. Would you want me nosing around in your business tellin' you to move along already?"

"I don't want to think about it, Hank," Fowler admitted.

"Exactly. Neither do I. Now get the fuck outta my house and leave me alone." Hank grabbed the whiskey and refilled his glass, slopping the alcohol over the edge and onto the coffee table as his hands shook with barely suppressed rage. Fowler left quietly, his long sigh freezing in the cold November air as he called a taxi from Hank's front porch.

He'd screwed the pooch on this one. Hank was right. LeAnn would come back to him, but Hank had lost everything. It had been wrong to come here and try and compare their situations, but he was at his wit's end. Hank's disciplinary file was growing daily as complaints flowed in about him being drunk on the job, of no-showing for work or being late. Of not answering the phone when he was on call. Anger and violence against officers and witnesses… the list went on. Fowler was running out of excuses.

When he got home, LeAnn and the kids were waiting for him. He hugged each one of them in turn, tears welling behind his eyelids as he whispered his apologies and thought what it would be like to never see them again.

He couldn't imagine it. It hurt too much to even contemplate, and he wondered how Hank bore the pain. A new respect for Hank's strength and courage flowed through his veins, and he knew in the same circumstances, he'd do a lot worse than show up drunk to a crime scene.

**January 2039**

"I gotta talk to you, Jeffrey." Hank plopped himself down in a chair that was entirely too small for his large frame. "You're gonna be angry, and if you want my badge, I understand."

"What did you do this time? Please tell me you did not show up to testify in court drunk off your ass again. You spent a year puttin' together that case, Hank." Fowler perched on the edge of his desk, his exasperation loud and clear in his voice. He was tired. He'd thought they were past this.

"No, no, nothin' like that. I understand why you'd think that, though." Hank looked nervous, and Jeffrey couldn't say he'd ever seen Hank like this in all the years he'd known him. Uncertain. Unsure.

"I thought things were improving since Connor came around," Fowler observed. "I've been gettin' less complaints about you, that's for sure."

"They—they are. That's the problem." Hank lowered his head. "I'm datin' my partner, Jeffrey. Connor and I, we're—"

Fowler chuckled. "I know," he said. "I think the entire precinct has figured it out at this point."

"When did you find out?" Hank asked.

"You don't become a Captain without knowin' a few things and besides, you're my best friend. You think I don't keep my eye on you? I've seen the way you and Connor look at each other. I think I figured it out at Christmas. With the lights, and the dancing—yeah, it was around then."

Hank nodded. "You're gonna have to reassign me. I know you hate shit bein' unprofessional. I promise you, I'm as surprised by this as anyone. If someone told me I was gonna fall in love with an android, I woulda thought they were delusional."

"Eventually I'll have to separate you," Fowler said. "For now, if you can keep it professional on the job, I'm not gonna break up my best team. Besides, it's good to see you smile. I thought—maybe you weren't comin' back. That you got buried in that box with Cole."

"I'm seein' a therapist," Hank admitted. "I should have gone when you suggested it, but it was too soon. I wasn't ready. I just wanted to forget I was still alive." Hank sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I never thanked you. For having my back through all this."

"That's what friends are for," Fowler said. "You've been through a nightmare anyone would struggle with, but I think you're finally waking up. I'm happy for you, Hank. I hoped the deviant investigation would remind you of the cop you used to be, but I never expected it to change your life. To think you wanted nothing to do with Connor."

"Things change," Hank admitted. "I was stuck in a dark place, but Connor helped me see a new perspective on things. Maybe… maybe I was just ready to move forward with my life. Right place, right time, you know."

Hank turned to glance out of the window and Fowler followed suit. Connor was seated at his desk, his eyes straying up to the office as he rolled his coin across his fingers.

"Hey, uh, Jeffrey? Look real serious for a moment," Hank said, a twinkle sparkling in his bright blue eyes. "Make it look like you're mad. Do that thing where you wrinkle your brow—yeah, like that." Hank stood up. "I'm gonna go out there and slam the door like I'm angry, and he's gonna think he's gettin' reassigned. Wait till I tell him he's gonna be Gavin's new partner."

"If that's how you treat your boyfriend, I'm glad I'm only your friend," Fowler observed. He pointed a finger at Hank like he was angry, going along with the show. "Don't leave the kid hangin' too long, Hank." He stood up and clapped Hank on the shoulder. Hank slammed the door of his office and stalked over to his desk. Fowler watched as Connor went rushing over to see if Hank was all right, taking every opportunity to touch him on the shoulder and back.

Hank burst out laughing and Fowler realized the ruse was up before he'd really gotten into it. Hank hadn't had the heart to lie to Connor when those big brown eyes were boring into him. Connor looked up at the office and Fowler nodded to him with a smile, hoping his expression conveyed his gratitude.

Hank was going to be all right now, and he could stop worrying about his friend for a little while. He'd been unaware until that moment that he hadn't stopped fearing for Hank's life since the day he'd found out the horrible news that Cole Anderson was dead. He let out the breath he'd been holding for three long, painful years, grateful that he could go back to being Hank's ally and friend instead of being his only life-support system.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments or on Twitter @landale!


End file.
